


and it feels momentous

by Klainesflirtyduets



Category: SKAM (Italy), Skam Italia
Genre: M/M, basically martinos thoughts during “nel mio letto”
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-03
Updated: 2018-11-03
Packaged: 2019-08-17 03:46:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 713
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16508801
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Klainesflirtyduets/pseuds/Klainesflirtyduets
Summary: The first thing you see that Thursday morning is Niccolò Fares' smile, and it feels momentous.





	and it feels momentous

        _ **And it feels momentous**_

 

You wake up smiling that morning.  
You have yet to open your eyes; your brain is still fuzzy from the first restful night in months, you don't know what time of the day it is, and it takes you more than it probably should to realize the bed you're in isn't yours.

But there's a pair of knees touching yours under the duvet, and soft fingertips caressing your shoulder over the fabric of your t-shirt, and there's no doubt in your lethargic mind about who those hands belong to and frankly - that's all you want to be aware of. Everything feels warm, cotton-like, hazy and bright - just like a dream. You feel the sunlight's touch on your skin, behind your eyelids, on your arms.

It's the most comfortable you've been in you don't know how long. The last time you woke up this rested and at ease, you were still a kid - your parents were still together, you loved falling asleep snuggling with your mommy in her bed and you had no idea you'd have to grow up so incredibly quick.

It's peaceful in there, where the only sounds filtering through the window are the chirping of birds, the occasional sound of cars passing by and the scratching of Niccolò's nails against yours pajamas. Nothing else matters. Nothing else exists. In fact, the whole world ceased to exist the night before, the second you and Niccolò hopped on that bike and zoomed past Saint Peter, your mask dropped on the concrete. It ceased to exist right there and then and, when Niccolò's lips touched yours, wet and soft and tasting of chlorine and freedom, you also realized how much you wouldn't miss it.

If you could, you'd stay like this forever, in this small bubble of cotton and light. You're so used to open your eyes and get your dreams shattered; right now it's easy to just choose to avoid that kind of disappointment. It's easy to pretend that if you just keep your eyes shut, you'll be forever cocooned in this perfect limbo between fantasy and reality, warmed by the solid presence of Niccolò's body next to yours.

You don't think anything could ever top this feeling of utter serenity. If you could give perfection an image, this would be it and you just don't want to let this go.

Yet, somehow, Niccolò's ability to surprise you is beyond your imagination. His hand clasps yours, fingers interlacing - warm and just a little calloused due to playing instruments and making art - and the fear of ruining this delicate equilibrium fades away.  
You let yourself be seduced back to reality. Somehow, with a single touch, Niccolò makes you want to be awake and aware of where you are and who you are with, because for once in your life waking up doesn't mean getting hurt. For once, waking up and meeting reality is way better than dreaming, so much better that it nearly feels impossible.  
  
Your eyelashes flutter open as Niccolò's breath touches your faces with the gentleness of a flap of butterfly wings.

The first thing you see that Thursday morning is Niccolò Fares' smile, and it feels momentous.

For one eternal second, everything around and within you expands and stretches and pulls with the intensity of that single act. You know, objectively, that's not like that, but it feels like the universe is somehow realigning itself, as if things were slightly out of order and Niccolò smiling at you is putting them in their rightful place.

It feels decisive. It feels inevitable and overwhelming and cathartic. But mostly, it just feels right.  
In the back your mind there's a voice suggesting it wasn't the universe realigning itself; it is every single one of your molecules finding its place and purpose. The intensity of it nearly chokes you, chest full and throat too narrow to let it all out at once.

Just for a second - one interminable, horrifying second - it's scary. But then, Niccolò's forehead touches yours, and the warmth of his body under your fingertips has the power to ground you, remind you that you're not alone in this.  
You breath out. He kisses you.

You woke up smiling. You don't stop for the rest of the day.

 

 

 

 


End file.
